


Arabella

by Turner_Kane



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Original Work
Genre: Arabella - Freeform, Arctic Monkeys - Freeform, F/M, I don't recall ever even beginning this, I took this in a lot of directions, Lovely idea for a short film sometime, Sorry but I couldn't help myself, sherlock reference, tagging is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2223117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turner_Kane/pseuds/Turner_Kane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Hopefully) A collection of short stories based on songs by the English indie rock band Arctic Monkeys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arabella

Words usually flowed natural to him. Characterized as a flirt by many he took pride in making women blush. Tonight he was preoccupied by the thought of a certain bar patron. One of which he’d never seen, and he probably wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for the fact that she wasn’t orbiting him like every other female in the small bar.  
The others took note to his distance. This only led to them causing even more of a fuss then they usually would have. Screaming out his name to get his attention, even going to lengths as to untie his tie, or claw at the crotch of his trousers just to try to get him to pay attention. The dark haired man was now beyond his days of flattering females for entertainment. Now he had a purpose. The mysterious woman in the back of the room at the bar was his conquest. With her dark as night hair and extremely tight navy blue dress she was armed with nothing more than an unfair advantage over him. His unknown sweet spot of which she’d hit without even knowing it, or caring about it for that matter. She didn’t have a care. It bugged him. Everything about her drove him absolutely mad. 

“…drink…” A seductive voice purred into his left ear. He hadn’t the slightest clue how he’d ended up wherever he was, but it felt right. “…just for me…” she continued to hum in his ear. Something in her voice had him hypnotized to no end. 

“You’ve seemed so out of it lately. Drink.” A close friend instructed, wrapping a worried arm around his shoulder as he spoke. “—uhh…” He was back at the bar. Sitting only five seats away from the dark haired mystery that’d just sat in his lap moments ago…or did she? “I don’t want it. I think I’m already buzzed.” His words were shaky and slurred. “I’m worried ‘bout you. You just froze up when we walked in, you haven’t been the same for a couple of days now…you sure you okay?” Now thinking about it something was different. Tonight the unknown woman that’d transfixed him to insanity was wearing an even tighter burgundy dress. “I don’t even know anymore...something’s wrong with me.” The last thing he saw was the murky bottom of a shot glass before he appeared in the room again.  
He’d known the contents of her room just like he’d known the contents of his own. There was a loveseat in the left corner, a dressing counter in the other. Upon arrival the lights were automatically dimmed, giving off a perfect reddish glow to her obviously 70’s themed bedroom.  
“Do you like me?” She mused on this particular night. She was curled up on his lap once again, her manicured nails tugging endlessly at his messy dark hair. “Of course I like you…but you know, I’d like you a lot more if you’d tell me your name.” He chuckled out as a response. She thought about it for a few seconds before throwing out an answer to his question. “Anthea.” She laughed, jumping off of his lap and towards the liquor that rested on its side on the bed. “I think it’s time you had a drink.” Her tone had changed from playful to sexy in an instant. It turned him on beyond reason, and he would gladly play her game of ‘drink just for me’ if it meant sex afterwards.  
Who could resist her? The shirt she was wearing was just as tight as any dress he’d seen her in thus far. It was so tight that her nipples poked out and teased him as she danced about the bedroom, liquor in hand. Her long dark hair flowed freely down her back and stopped just as her ass began. That’s another thing. Her ass. It was perfectly rounded and it seemed like fun to just slap around as she moaned out in pain and pleasure—his thoughts of her were stopped as he realized where he was. He was at the bar again. 

“What the fuck is happening to me?!” He groaned is frustration. His brother, whom had probably accompanied him to the bar that night, momentarily stared at him in curiosity. “What seems to be the trouble?” He…for simplicity sake let’s call him James…mulled over an answer for what felt like a small eternity. “Well, there’s this girl. I keep thinking about her, I’m losing my mind over her. I don’t even know if she’s real or not.”  
“Where did you meet this girl at?” Once again he had to think over an answer. It’d been what was probably weeks since first meeting her. It was hard to think of the answer now. “I think I met her here…she was sitting right over there in that stool.” Both brothers turned to look at the unoccupied chair. “…and how long have you been seeing her?” Once again he had to conjure up an answer, ultimately proceeding with the following: “It’s been about a week. She takes me back to her place, we talk, we drink…and then I don’t remember a thing after that. She’s strange. She’s mysterious. Hell, I don’t even know if she’s real or not. But I do know one thing. If she likes me the way I like her she’ll be here tonight. And damn it, if I can help it, I’m going to get answers out of that woman.” 

“You’re drunk James, I think I should take you home.” 

“…drink, James…” It was but a small whisper in the back of his mind, but it rang clear as day. A tiny window in his mind that made him think of her endless. Made him hear her voice, feel her touch, even see her bright blue eyes filled with the lust and mirth that he’d grown to appreciate over the last week. It burned him to see such visions of her, yet she wasn’t there. The only thing left to do was for him to drink in fond memory of the mysterious woman. “…just for me…”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna write a prequel so bad. And I think I will. I don't remember when I started writing this, but it shaped into whatever that is. Someone please tell me what you think is going on in the story because as of right now I'm not even sure. 
> 
> Sorry if it's shitty, I personally think I'm a garbage writer. .-.


End file.
